post-battle care
by alessandriana
Summary: "Blood loss and alc'hol-" Sanji stopped to try and remember where he'd been going with that. It was hard, what with having to walk and think at the same time. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been quite this drunk. "Don't, uh. Whisk?"


"Okay, Sanji, your turn," Chopper called, voice low.

Sanji turned from watching the edge of the jungle to see Chopper pulling the last of his instruments from the boiling water and setting them aside on a clean cloth. Robin was lying on the other side of the fire, head pillowed on her pack and clean white bandages peeking out from under the edge of her shirt. Zoro had flopped on his side, right arm wrapped practically from fingers to shoulder. "I should keep watch," Sanji said, though it was hesitant, feeling the way his shoulder burned, pain radiating down to his fingers. "Until the others get back."

Chopper frowned at him. "You can keep watch over here," he said. "And I'll keep an eye out, too." When Sanji still hesitated, he said firmly, "If you pass out from blood loss, you won't be any good to _anyone_."

That was a fair point. Sanji sighed and came back, lowering himself- with great care- to sit cross-legged in front of Chopper, back to the fire so the doctor could see.

Chopper prodded gently at the edges of the wound, making soft little thinking noises as he worked. Sanji sucked on his unlit cigarette and tried to keep his breathing steady, unable to keep his hands from clenching in the fabric over his knees.

"I didn't realize it was this deep," Chopper said after a few moments, disapprovingly. "I'll have a better idea once I clean it out, but it's definitely going to need stitches."

"Sorry. I didn't know either, it's not like I can see my own shoulder," Sanji said, which wasn't quite a lie. But Robin had needed to be treated first, and Zoro's arm had looked ugly. He started to shrug, then thought better of it, wincing as the blood-soaked fabric pulled at the cut. "You do what you need to."

Chopper lowered his voice, though Robin and Zoro both seemed asleep- or at least Zoro had his his eyes closed and was breathing slowly. "You should have said something sooner. I used up all my painkillers. It- it'll probably hurt. And- and I don't have enough antiseptic. If I sew it up without cleaning it properly, you might get an infection!" His voice trembled.

Sanji forced himself to grin, knowing Chopper would see the reflection of it even in the dim and flickering firelight. "Oh, come on. I got sewn up on the Baratie all the time without either, and it wasn't a big deal." Though he'd never had a major injury there- just minor accidents with kitchen knives, until he'd learned to handle them properly. And the shitty old man had always been careful to sterilize his tools, and poured some cheap sake down Sanji's throat before he'd set to work. So, maybe it wasn't that closely equivalent.

But it did give him an idea. "Oi, Zoro, you still carry that flask?"

Zoro gave an ostentatious snore. Sanji's eyebrow twitched. He knew he'd seen the marimo's eyelids move earlier; he'd always had a second sense when it came to Chopper in distress. "Seriously, dickface, hand it over."

Before Sanji could go over and retrieve the flask his own damn self, Chopper broke in, with a tiny wobble. "Zoro, if you have something I can use-"

That did it; the flask came flying at Sanji's head, and Sanji caught it with his good arm, a flat smack as metal met palm, though the motion sent pain flashing across his back. Sanji took out his cigarette, unscrewed the top and took a moderate swig, grimacing as the burn of shitty, cheap rum scoured his throat. "I can't believe you willingly drink that crap," he said, closing it and passing it to Chopper.

Zoro just grinned maliciously and settled back.

Still, once Sanji got past the taste, the warmth settled pleasantly into his empty stomach, and he could feel his muscles unknotting as it began to take effect. The pain in his shoulder eased.

Chopper touched his back gently. "You shouldn't move your arms too much. And... I'm going to have to cut off your jacket."

Sanji heaved a sigh, but of course the suit jacket and shirt had already been a loss, what with the giant sword slash through it. "It's fine," he said, though he still winced as he heard Chopper's scissors make the first cut through silk. "Do you think the next island will have a decent tailor?" he asked, as he slid the shredded remains of his sleeves down and off his arms. He discarded them off to the side in a sad little pile. The back panel of his jacket was still stuck to the wound with dried blood, though.

"Um..." Chopper reached over and grabbed a bowl from next to the fire; he'd boiled water in it earlier, but it had cooled off enough that when he soaked a clean cloth in it and pressed it to the wound, Sanji shivered. The night air had dropped considerably from the heat of the day. "Maybe? Nami said the next island had a big town on it. There could be someone there?"

"I wonder if they'll have anything in silk..." Sanji's breath hitched as Chopper carefully began to work the remains of his shirt free. The motion reopened the wound, and he could feel hot blood trickling down his back. A wave of dizziness washed over him, and he leaned forward to prop his elbows on his knees. He could hear Chopper making quiet worried noises.

"Sorry, just a little bit more... there." The cloth peeled away; Chopper rinsed the exposed injury with water and used tweezers to pluck a few more pieces of shredded cloth out of the wound, some of them embedded quite deep. Sanji gritted his teeth, all too aware of Zoro still watching, and Robin asleep by the fire, and tried not to let it show on his face.

Then Chopper uncapped the rum. "Do you need something to bite down on?" he asked, as the smell rose like paint thinner into the air. Sanji locked eyes with Zoro across the clearing, and said, "Nah."

Chopper hesitated; then, seeming to decide against arguing, just pushed against Sanji's lower back. "Lean forward at least, so it doesn't all run off."

Sanji broke eye contact finally, and leaned forward, staring at the black dirt and bracing himself.

Maybe it was because the wound was worse than anything he'd had on the Baratie, or because time had dimmed his memories, but it was worse than he had expected from his memories, searing pain that overwhelmed all coherent thought. He swallowed down a whimper and focused all his attention on not passing out.

An indeterminate amount of time later he came back to himself, Chopper kneeling over him and trying to press a cup into his hands. Sanji uncurled enough to take it, trying to ignore the wetness on his cheeks. His teeth hurt from grinding them together. He didn't think he'd made any noise. He couldn't focus enough to see if Zoro was still watching. He took the cup from Chopper, and when he knocked it back was startled to find more of the rotgut instead of water. He choked and coughed as it burned its way down his throat.

"I still have to do the stitches," Chopper explained, and Sanji gritted his teeth and nodded. Chopper pointed at the cup. "Finish that."

Sanji hesitated. He still ought to keep watch-

But his eyes were focusing better now, and across the clearing he could see Zoro had moved into a seated position, swords propped where he could easily unsheathe them with his good arm. Sanji gave a shaky sigh, and knocked back the rest of the cup.

The stitches sucked. But somewhere around the fourth or fifth the excessive amount of alcohol kicked in, and Sanji felt the world turn soft and floaty. He slumped forward again, face propped in his good hand, just barely resisting the urge to slide right onto the ground.

Eventually Chopper finished, and smoothed bandages over the top, and he was saying something but honestly it didn't seem that important so Sanji just let his head slip a little further, eyes closing.

Time passed.

Chopper handed him another cup- water this time- which Sanji also drank.

There was a commotion in the distance, getting slowly closer. The sound of birds squawking protest as something noisy disturbed them. Then voices nearby, talking. For some reason it didn't alarm Sanji, so he ignored it.

Then someone poked him in the face.

"Wha-" Sanji jerked back and nearly overbalanced; Chopper's hand on his back was the only thing that kept him from going over. Luffy grinned at him from inches away. "Luffy? When'd'you-" Wow, everything was really floaty. He squinted around the clearing, and there were Usopp, and Brook and Franky, and _Nami_, and Sanji felt the last remnants of stress bleed out as he saw them. "Nami-swan! You're alright~!"

His attempt to get up and greet her beautiful person was impeded by the way Luffy had basically crawled into his lap and was patting him on the cheeks, checking him over. "We just got back!" he declared. "Sorry we were late!"

Normally Sanji would have tossed him off but the alcohol was making dealing with a hyperactive Luffy even more difficult than usual. Instead he ended up shoving ineffectually, and then, somehow, patting Luffy on the cheeks in return. They squished. It was kind of, oddly, nice.

"Did you get'em?" Sanji asked Luffy.

("Is he drunk?" he heard Nami ask in the background, faintly incredulous.

Chopper replied, serenely, "I ran out of painkillers, and he needed stitches.")

"Of course!" Luffy said, and Sanji let out a breath, letting his head fall forward. Not that he'd had any doubt. But.

Franky was nearby, laughing at him.

Sanji yelped when Luffy's wandering hands got to the bandages on his back, at which point Chopper got suddenly big and there was some shouting for a bit. Then someone was putting an arm under Sanji's good side and he was being hauled up, quite gently, and he looked up to see Usopp's long nose. He kind of wanted to touch it, so he did. It pretty much just felt like a nose. He wasn't sure what he'd expected.

"Boy, you're flying high, huh?" Usopp asked, suppressed laughter in his voice as he guided Sanji over to the other side of the clearing, where Robin and Zoro were.

"Blood loss and alc'hol-" Sanji stopped to try and remember where he'd been going with that. It was hard, what with having to walk and think at the same time. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been quite this drunk. "Don't, uh. Whisk?"

"...Mix?" Usopp offered. "Okay, let's get you down." Sanji made a noise as the position twisted the muscles in his back, pain flaring sharply past the barrier of the alcohol, and he clutched at Usopp's shoulder and refused to go. Usopp said, "Um, a little help here?"

Then there was another set of hands helping, and Sanji let himself slide to the ground, only realizing once he was down the other person had been Zoro. He let out a quiet, surprised, "Hngh."

"What." Zoro's voice was flat.

Sanji squinted up at him. "You're being... awf'lly helpful."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm-" Zoro stopped, and Sanji almost thought he was suppressing a sigh. "Just lie down, idiot."

"I'm not-" Zoro's hand was in the center of his chest, pressing, and it was too much trouble to resist. Sanji twisted so he ended up on his side, not his back, and then his eyes were sliding inexorably closed.

Something soft was rolled up and placed under his head. On his other side he heard Robin's melodious voice say, "Sleep well, Cook-san."

Zoro's gruff voice speaking further off.

Luffy chattering with Usopp.

Brooke's cheerful 'Yo-ho-ho~!'

Things were fine.

Sanji slept.


End file.
